


In a Year of Thirteen Moons

by BobbleHeadAlien



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: I hope you like past lives, I swore that wasn't meant to be sexual, Iwa-chan is just trying his best, Life is hard, M/M, Reincarnation, This is a little weird, are those cHaRrY BlOSsOmS, creepy old people are almost harder, fuck isn't anywhere in the story so I'm including it here, fuuuuuucccckkk, just read it please, oikawa is a sweet little baby that needs to be protected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-20 03:14:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17614361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobbleHeadAlien/pseuds/BobbleHeadAlien
Summary: Tell me darling, have we met before? I sware I've known those eyes for an eternity. So just hold me once more, before these bones turn to dust.





	In a Year of Thirteen Moons

_Tap, tap,_ _tap_

Hajime bounced his eraser on the table. The pencil felt numb in his hands and almost as mocking as the blank sheet of sketching paper laid out before him. It could start with a line, followed by another, and another  until finally a picture formed. It was what he had always done. For years he was believed to have great talent. From the moment he first saw his mother pin his drawing of their cat, Mochi, too the fridge. Oh the the places art would take him! From Tokyo, to France, and even America. He could hardly wait to see his works in the most prestigious museums, yet his method  was failing him.

What the hell was he doing wrong?

The stress was building, he _had_ to come up with something within the next month, otherwise no scholarship. No scholarship, no art school, no art school- well he didn't want to think of that. Their had to be something he could use to get his inspiration flowing, after all, it couldn't have completely disappeared, right?

With a sigh he stood and stretched, the familiar sound of cracking joints graced his ears. For a moment he  thought of the possibility of giving up, settling for a normal career. He hadn't actually drawn anything in several months. It would be easy, but he pushed that thought away. It wasn't a option. He could hear footsteps echoed down the hall, most certainly his mother.

"Sweety, can you hang with Grandma while I'm out?" A groun escaped, giving his answer. "Please, you know she's so sick she can hardly keep anything down, but to stubborn too admit it. What if she falls and breaks a hip?"

"Fine," he agreed.

Grandma Iwazumi (or Granny as most called her) was, in a since, creepy. Like most other old women she knitted, ate pudding, and smelled like deteriorating skin. Unlike other elderly women however, she had a strangely powerful aura, as if not only her body, but soul were ancient. There  was an eeriness in her smile, almost like she could see straight through you. Hajime didn't dislike being around her, rather he preferred to stay away from her strange soulfulness.

Begrudgingly he crept down the hall to the white door at the far end, with a deep breath he entered. The room felt bare with only the bare minimum accommodating. Laying on the bed covered in at least five quilts, was the woman herself. Long, stringy silver hair fell tangles off her shoulders. Her mouth curved in an all knowing smile. Hajime felt shivers run from the top of his head to the tops of his toes as he locked gazes with two glass pale orbs. Skin sagged from her chin like a rooster's comb.

"Hajime," she said in a raspy, tired voice, "you look dreadful. What's  wrong?" He repressed the urge to walk back and sat in the chair next to her.

"Well, I've been having trouble with my art."

"Ah, lack of inspiration?" He nodded.

"Anymore I don't know why I'm even doing it. I feel like its lost its meaning." She stared at him silently for a good long while. Hajime fought off the nagging sensation before nearly jumping out of his seat when she finally spoke.

"You've almost forgotten him..." A heavy sadness shown in her eyes. Hajime's heart fluttered uncomfortably.

"Who?" She ignored the question, instead pulling off the covers and standing up shakily. Stunned and confused he watched as she shuffled over to the antique dresser. She searched through one of the compartments and pulled out a key.

"Could you get the box from under my bed?" Hesitantly he obeyed, taking a rather heavy wooden box over to the ancient woman. She unlocked it with practiced ease to reveal a large bottle  filled with an odd stormy liquid.

"What is it?" he dared to ask.

"This, my boy, is a very old, special kind of potion. Drink a glass of this before bed. It will solve  your problem." Baffled, he took the bottle.

It was going to be a strange night.

>>>><<<<

Hajime glared at the strange substance swirling in his cup. It was in this moment he realized just how desperate he had become. Everyone knew Granny was crazy, there was no telling what that, thing, would do. He could even die and yet, something deep within his chest told him there wasn't a choice, he simply had to drink it. It smelled sweet, like honey suckle. Part of him secretly wanted to dive stright in, gulp it down like a starved man to water. _Alluring_ , what an oddly perfect identifier.

He took a deep breath and a swig. Oh the taste! It was summer and autumn, cherry and evergreen. It was as if he were drinking liquid memory, a life time lay still in glass. There was no more debate, he down the rest quickly and let swim in his chest. A foreign heat spread throughout his body. For a moment he thought it must have been a fine liquor but concluded it was something much stronger, on the count of the walls suddenly seemed to be melting. Before he could comprehend what was happening, drowsiness pulled his eyelids and the soft tranquility of sleep overcame him.

>>>><<<<

"Mama, why do I have to live in the temple?" He asked, secretly knowing the answer. Hajime had over heard her and the inn owner speaking about this day the night before. Her grip tightened on his hand as she pulled a lock of hair behind her ear. It was a tell-tale sign of on coming dishonesty, even at the age of nine, he knew it well.

"Well, you know that special thing you can do?" He nodded, it had gotten him in trouble before.

The first time was when Haijme told one of her clients he would die within three days and Mama didn't get anymore for several weeks. They said it was because he was possessed, that was only the beginning. He couldn't see what that had to do with living in the temple but he didn't argue.

"The temple is ran by the Oikawas, they have it too. They'll help you harness it, then you can help people, but you have to live with them, otherwise it won't work." It was a lie, he knew she paid them.

They continued through the village toward the temple. People turned their heads and whispered among each other. It was about him, he was sure of it. Hajime decided it was best to keep his head down and mouth shut. Who ever the Oikawas were, they didn't want him there. His mother's hand felt like shackles, the temple a prison where he'd live out his life sentence.

It was a tall, grand building painted pale blue and white. On the door was a proud dragon elegantly carved into the wood. It started daggers into the hopeless boy making a shiver jolt  through his entire body.

"Remember Hajime, be respectful, ever talk back, and don't give them any reason to dislike you." He agreed quietly. She bent down, kissed his head, and walked off quickly. Dread swam in his chest, he hesitated for a few moments before knocking. A short, frail lady in a green kimono answered with a smile.

"Welcome, you must be Hajime."

"Yes ma'am." The woman glanced around curiously.

"Where is your mother?"

"She went home." Sympathy dance in her honey eyes, she nodded in understanding. She led him through the temple, explaining the many rooms and artifacts along the way.  
He came to learn her name was Aika. The grand decoration along the walls made Hajime feel small. The passed dozens of rabbits and birds stuck in motion until they reached a plan white door.

"This is your room. I hope you will find it comfortable." He grunted in response, not quite feeling up too speaking properly. She patted his head disarmingly and left.

The room was simple, bare of anything except a futon in the center. There was a small window over looking the koi pond. He crept closer, the fish swirled in circles mindlessly and for a moment he wished he could be one of them. No cares, no worries, just water around his ears. It must have been a peaceful existence. He became lost in their endless movement that he almost didn't notice another presence. There was a voice suddenly pulled from the back of his mind, youthful and boyish. It seemed to be speaking to someone else but he couldn't hear it. Curious, he poked his head out the window. Leaning against the building was a boy, more or less Hajime's age, with fluffy chestnut hair blabbing away with some unknown person with out moving a muscle.

"Hey!" The boy jumped and looked up at him stunned. Brown met gray and they both knew it wasn't the first time.

>><<

_Oikawa_ _Tooru_

That was a name Hajime quickly became familiar with. Mostly because he wouldn't leave him alone, consistently asking questions and rambling about the in and outs of the temple. He learned Tooru was the same age as him and mute too everyone, supposedly as a result of a curse some old bitter lady put on his mother when she was younger. Hajime was the only living soul too hear him

"It's not all bad," Tooru told him while chewing on a cherry he picked from one of the surrounding branches. (He convinced Hajime to climb the tree with him because, "I sware Iwa-chan, they're the best in Japan!") "The spirits around here keep me company, but it's great to have someone who can actually hear me. Maybe to can even convince everyone that I'm not stupid!" Hajime's face sqwenched.

"You're not stupid."

"I _know_ but everyone thinks that because I can't talk means I can't do anything but help clean. They don't even know I can see spirits. Dad was really happy when he heard you can tell the future and stuff." Hajime picked a cherry of his own, plopping it into his mouth and spitting out the seed.

"I thought they were only letting me stay because my mom paid them." Tooru shook his head.

"Gramps is getting old, when he dies you'll probably be the one to give fortunes." Hajime took a moment to soak the new information. Suddenly life didn't seem so bad and when he saw Tooru smiling next to him, he knew, deep within his soul, it would be one of the greatest lives he'd ever lived.

Later that evening he was called to speak with the rest of the Oikawa's. Tooru happily walked beside him, insisting on holding hands. Hajime compiled without argument, after all, it was only until he became familiar with the temple. (Although, in his heart he hoped that wouldn't be the case.) They chatted about random things until they reached the meeting room.

It was a beautiful room, a dragon similar to the one on the front doors was painted curling it's way along the walls. Four people sat in a half oval, one being Aika. There were two men, both wore strick, indifferent looks. He inferred they were Tooru's father and grandfather. The other girl he assumed was Tooru's sister by the matching hair, she must have been in her mid-teens.

"I am Sora," the younger of the two men said. He raised his brow at the boys. "I see Tooru has taken a liking too you. I hope you haven't found his silence rude."

"No sir." Sora nodded.

"Good, good. Did your mother explain the arrangement to you?"

"Not fully."

"You will be educated here in the temple in exchange for your services later on. You will start first thing tomorrow morning. Do you have any questions?"

Hajime took a deep breath, hesitating for only a moment before asking, "Will Tooru be learning with me?" The family exchanged looks. He could feel the grip on his hand tightening and he squeezed back reassuringly.

"Tooru has no need for that sort of thing, he is mute and serves his way by-"

"I can hear him." The man blinked.

"You _what?_ "

"I can hear him," Hajime said once more.

"Impossible, he is cursed."

"I can prove it!" Sora scoffed.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Oops, he hadn't thought of that. Desperately he looked at his new companion for help. Tooru kept his head down, tears gathered in his eyes. He didn't have an answer either. His mind raced.

"Can any of you see spirits?" He asked. 

"I can," Tooru's sister answered.

"Get me some paper."

>><<

Hajime could feel himself trembling nervously. He had to do this right, otherwise he couldn't see Tooru. The writing utensil in his hand felt heavy as lead.

"Are you sure this will convince them?" Tooru asked with speculation. He nodded numbly, more for himself than his friend.

"This is ridiculous," Sora stated for the third time. "Why are we humoring children?"

"Let them be," Grandpa Oikawa said for first time. It was enough to get the man to silence his disapproval.

Hajime exhaled, he could do this. All he had to do was draw out the description of the spirit Tooru told him. No big deal. It couldn't be that hard, right? He silently prayed too any God listening for luck. He a Tooru locked eye for a moment before starting. 

It was incredible! Hajime found himself easily sketching out whatever spirit the other described. It was as if an invisible hand were guiding his own. Every so often he'd look up to find Tooru smiling in approval. He almost flinched at the result. The figure seemed tall and ragged, a sword lodged in its chest. He was surprised of the detail he himself had put in. From the peeling skin, to the grief stricken look on its face, it gave off a strange energy. This is what Tooru had to see all the time? He held up the paper when he finished. The family gaped in astonishment.

"It looks just like it," said Tooru's sister. Aika beamed brightly and enveloped the boys in a warm embrace.

"This is the beginning of something great," she said. They both knew she was right.

>>><<<  
_Three years later_

"Iwa-chaaan~" Hajime smirk mischievously as Tooru came into veiw from the edge of the tree line. He had a wicked plan in mind. Armed with a bucket of dirt and worms, he was ready.

It had bloosmed several months before when the other had eaten the last pork bun that had been promised to him. He never planned to act on the idea but after what happened the day before, it was clear Tooru needed to learn a lesson. Fate had changed because of him. Hajime couldn't tell exactly what had changed, only that it was a bitter difference. If he were being honest, it terrified him. He could still feel a distant loss in the pit of his stomach, the future would be harsh.

He pushed back his thoughts and aimed the bucket directly above the other, tipping it ever so gently but before he could completely dump it's contents Tooru looked up into the branches. Their eyes met and for a moment he could see the next seen play out in the back of his mind. Panic shot through his vains.

"Don't come up here!" He called to the other. Tooru's face twisted in puzzlement.

"Why not?" He racked his brain for an answer.

"The...the squirrels are fighting!" The bruntte stared back blankly.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Really Iwa-chan if you want to keep me away you'll have to try harder than that." The boy grabbed a limb and searched for a place for his foot. Time was running short. Soon Tooru was half way there. Hajime could hear a crack in his left ear.

"Stop!" He grabbed his bucket and climbed to a lower branch. "I'll meet you where you are!" It was too late, Tooru reached for another limb and fell as soon as he grasped it. There was no scream, no cry, only the sound of the twelve year old body crashing to the ground, but Hajime swore somewhere in the distance was cold laughter. He swore that if Tooru made it through, he would stop at nothing to protect him.

There was the breath of change.

>>><<<

Hajime watched the snow drift towards the ground. It was the end of his fourteenth year and already a new problem had risen. He was deeply and madly in love with the one person he could never have, Tooru. No longer could he push off the ache in his chest, whatever control he had left was dwindling away. It wouldn't be long until he would slip up and do something unforgivable. The door opened, Hajime didn't have to be psychic to know it was the king himself. He felt a gentle hand on his arm.

"Have you made a wish yet?" His voice smooth and for the first time Hajime realized how much they had both grown. Tooru was catching up to him in hight, soon he'd be the short one.

"No," he replied keeping his eyes locked on the snow. "Have you?"

"I was waiting on you." He nodded, smiling ever so slightly.

"Well let's do it." They clasped their hands together and prayed silently. When Hajime opened his eyes he found himself captured in Tooru's gaze, for a second he swore there were stars in his eyes.

"Iwa-chan," he began softly, "do you know what I wished for?" Hajime gulped nervously. When had Tooru become so alluring?

"N-no, but I'd like too."

It began slowly and then all at once. Lips clumsily colliding, mingling with one another shyly. The heat, however, quickly pulled them in until they were holding for dear life. It felt even better than he had imagine and when he saw Tooru's breathless expression, he knew the feeling was mutual.

"I love you."

>>><<<

Time was soft too them, letting warm summer evenings drift away slowly and bitter days flee like birds to the South. Every morning Hajime would awake to the Tooru's face smashed into the pillow. If it were still dark, he'd take out the old sketching materials he kept under the futon and draw the other until the sun began to rise. He knew it was a risk, at any time one of Tooru's family members could come in and see them together, obviously closer than average companions.

"Ah, that takes me back," Tooru said one morning after Hajime had finished. "Do you remember when we were little and I'd have you draw the spirits?"

"How could I forget?" The memory was sweet. Countless winter evenings had been spent sketching on the kotatsu as Tooru watched silently in admiration. The thought alone brung a smile to his face. "Grandpa used to yell at you for putting them up on your wall."

"He said it would bring demons, but I never saw any. I still have them you know."

"Really?" Tooru nodded.

"They are my prized possession." In that moment an old dread pooled through out his body. Fate was reminded.

>>><<<

Fire, it was all he could see. Smoke filled his lungs as he stumbled around the twisting hallways of the temple. The heat was becoming unbearable, it licked his skin and seemed to boil his blood, but he had only one thought in mind. _Where is Tooru?_

"Tooru!" He heard a faint groun coming from one of the many rooms. Desperate, he opened each door, leaving as soon as he saw it was empty. Flames crawled up his leg, causing him to fall momentarily. The pain was searing but he had to move on. Finally he found Tooru laying with a peice of wood drapped across his chest his bedroom. He quickly pulled Tooru from his trapping. The young man stirred and looked up at Haijme.

"Iwa-chan?" He seemed to question.

"Why are you here?! Why didn't you leave when the fire started?!" Tooru held up a stack of papers, an old joyful memory.

"I wanted to save them." In the distance he heard a crash. There wasn't much time. He spotted a window and without much thought, pulled Tooru to his feet and shoved him though it. The other looked at him from the outside with wide, fearful eyes. He could only manage a silent goodbye before the temple collapsed.

Fate was settled in the ashes.

>>><<<

Hajime awoke to cold sweat running down his chin the morning after he drank the strange liquid. The burn in his lungs seemed like an old relic from the past life. He washed it down with a glass of water.

He no longer had to wonder about his art commission.

>>><<<

Tokyo was just as amazing as he'd hoped. The city buzzed with opportunity and he gladly soaked in it. He had been living in the collage dorms for a year and was finally getting his own apartment. The key felt pleasant in his hand as he walked up to the door to unlock it for the first time.

"So, you're my new neighbor?" For a moment he was back in an old time, sketching spirits and climbing cherry trees. Hajime turned towards the voice. Brown met grey and they both knew,  
_It wasn't the first time._

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyyy! So you've made to the end of my shity story, woo-hoo! I really hope you enjoyed, I had a lot of fun writing it. Sorry if there's any errors. I find it hard to edit on my phone. Leave a comment if you liked it! 
> 
> Stay classy~


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